Fight For Me
by FollowYourDreams97
Summary: It's the 50th annual Hunger Games, and Sam Winchester is chosen as District 12's male tribute. Dean volunteers for his little brother and is taken to the Capitol. Soon he finds he will need allies in order to survive and return home to his family. He befriends his fellow 12 tribute, Charlie, and can't help but to notice the blue eyed boy from District 2. Supernatural AU. Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

Fight For me

Chapter 1:

"Thank you," said a very tired Dean Winchester. He had been up since before the dawn. It was Sunday and that meant it was his last chance to get good deals at the Hob. He placed the goods he had just purchased in a small bag. That was the last of the money, and he had to hope and pray that there was enough food to last until he could shoot down some more game.

Dean left the Hob and walked down the busy streets. Sunday was the one day of the week that the mine workers had off, so the town was filled with people trying to take care of any responsibilities that didn't involve coal. Dean lived in the Seam, which could be described as the ghetto part of District 12. The homes were falling apart almost as bad as the people. Shops barely kept their business, except for the pharmacy. Sickness spread like wildfire due to cramped spaces and poor living conditions.

Opening the front door quietly, Dean stepped inside his home. The walls were moldy and the floor creaked with each step. Dean's father, John Winchester, closed the door behind Dean after Dean stepped out of the way. John locked the door and pulled the curtain across the window, making it darker in the house.

"You're late," he said taking the bag of goods from Dean. He walked over to the table, sat down, and carefully took out the contents from the bag and began to sort through it. "I thought I told you to be back before the streets got busy. You smell like forest."

Dean pulled out a chair and started to help his father sort through his purchases. "There was good game this morning," he said quietly. "I knew we'd need more food this week."

John pinched the bridge of his nose, "And you think full stomachs are more important than safety? If anyone in this town finds out what you do and where you go, they'll—"

"I know what they'll do. I'm careful. I just want to make sure that Sammy's fed and you don't have to do any extra work." Dean kept his head down. He hated the disapproving tone in his father's voice, but he knew it was coming. He didn't get home in time like he was supposed to.

Dean was often teased by the other boys his age around town. They told him he wasn't a man. There he was, 20 years old, he wasn't working, and his father still disciplined him like a child. No one knew why Dean didn't work in the mines. No one knew how protective he was of his little brother. No one knew Sam came first. John was going to force Dean to work, but Dean begged and pleaded. Sam was only 16. He could still be hurt on his own. Anything could happen in the Seam, especially if you walked the streets alone. John bitterly agreed, but under many circumstances. If Dean wanted to protect Sam, then he would take care of Sam. It was Dean's responsibility to walk Sam to and from school, to take him where he needed to go, and to make sure he was as healthy as someone could be in District 12. He was responsible for shopping, cooking, cleaning, and making sure the house didn't fall to the ground.

The silence in the house was broken by the sound of a door creaking open. Sam stepped out of his room and yawned. Dean felt a smile creep onto his lips when he saw Sam. "Morning, Sammy."

"Morning, Dean, morning, dad," said Sam as he walked into the kitchen. "Need any help?" Dean and John both scooted away so Sam could sit down. That was a yes. Sam took a seat and started helping put things away now that everything was sorted through. There were basic items: stale bread, a few vegetables, yarn, etc. Dean only shopped once a week, so even though to them it seemed like a lot, it wasn't. He knew they'd run out as soon as Sunday crept around again.

"Let me know when you get hungry, Sammy," said Dean. "I made a deal down at the Hob. We can eat there today."

Sam looked taken aback. "How did you manage that? I know you spent all the money on what we needed." Dean simply winked at Sam. Sam stared clueless, but just shrugged his shoulder and continued putting things away.

Neither John nor Sam knew, but Dean had to do much more than he had originally bargained for to take care of their home. This time of year was the hardest. In their country, Panem, every year two children were selected for the Hunger Games. One girl and one boy from each district were sent to fight to the death in an arena. The Capitol had made this sick game as punishment for the rebellion in the previous years. During the time of year that the Hunger Games took place everyone was forced to treat it like a holiday. Supplies ran short, and the districts were heavily guarded. Normally, Dean could just go into the forest outside the district and get more food, but with so many peacekeepers around, it wasn't safe.

Dean spent a long time trying to figure out how to keep Sam taken care of and out of the hunger games, so eventually he made a deal. He knew the woman that was in charge of putting the names of the children in the bowl to be drawn for the reaping. He also knew that she had a particular interest in him. She was young, and she was single. Each year she would take out one of Sam's slips of paper, in exchange for Dean sleeping with her. In the earlier years, Sam signed up to have his name put in several more times to get food, so Dean knew this was the only way to keep him safe. Over time Dean found that there were a lot of young women that were willing to make these kinds of deals. All of them were in their mid-twenties and they were lonely. Dean felt sick to his stomach thinking about what he had to do, but if it meant Sam was okay, it was worth it.

Days passed, and the most dreaded morning of the year finally arrived. Dean awoke early as usual, but today, there was nowhere to go. There was no work, there was no school. It was the day of the reaping. Later in the afternoon, one boy and one girl would be selected to be placed in the Capitol's hands.

Dean stepped out of bed and started to get ready for the day. He put on this only pair of jeans that weren't ripped, and his one nice dress shirt. It was ridiculous, getting dressed up for this occasion. But it was required. It made him sick.

He turned when he heard his door open. Sam stood in the doorway dressed and ready for the day, but his grey tie was messed up. "Dean, could you help me please?"

Dean smiled and walked over to Sam. "Everything's going to be fine, Sammy," he said as he fixed the tie. He could sense Sam's uneasiness.

"Easy for you to say…" Sam mumbled. "You can't be chosen." Sam wasn't wrong. Only children ages 12-18 were eligible for the Hunger Games.

"Nothing will happen to you, Sammy," said Dean as he finished fixing the tie and patted Sam on the back.

John, Dean, and Sam all walked to the town square together for the reaping. Every resident in District 12 was required to attend. Peacekeepers walked the streets, checking for people that were hiding. Unless you were at deaths door, you'd be shot on sight for hiding from the day's events.

Sullen faces bobbed up and down the streets as the time drew closer. John headed straight to an area reserved for people that were too old to be reaped and would just be watching. Dean would follow after he made sure Sam got to his spot.

"Hand," said the peacekeeper at the table that was set up for signing in. Sam brought his left hand forward and flinched slightly at having his index finger pricked. The peacekeeper pressed his bleeding finger to a piece of paper and scanned it. "_Sam Winchester" _appeared on the scanner screen. "Go on."

Sam turned to Dean nervously. Dean smiled at Sam, knowing he'd be fine. Sam's name had been taken out plenty of times. Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "It'll be fine. I'll see you after." Sam nodded his head and walked over to the male section marked "16". Dean waited for Sam to get into place and then he joined his father in the crowd.

Panem's anthem blasted from speakers and grabbed everyone's attention. On the big screen in the middle of the square, a video began to play. The same one was displayed every year. It was all about why the Hunger Games was made and how it worked. Everyone could recite the video word for word if they really tried. The screen faded to black.

A woman stepped up to a microphone and tapped it to make sure it was working properly. "Welcome! Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this year's District 12 reaping ceremony! My name is Effie Trinket, and I am," she paused and cleared her throat, "honored to be here." Dean rolled his eyes. Effie's words were as ridiculous as her outfit. "Now as a reminder to everyone, this year is a quarter quell!" Everyone remained silent. A quart quell took place every 25 years, and it meant that a special rule was added to the games to make it even more sick and twisted.

A box was brought out. It was filled with paper slips that each had a different new rule for the year. Effie would reach in and pull one out at random. She reached in the box and yanked out a paper slip. As she unfolded it, everyone held their breath. "Ooo!" she beamed. "How exciting! This year, the age of eligible tributes will range from age 12 to age 21!" Dean's heart raced. This event was rigged! They wouldn't have names of everyone from 19-21 unless they knew that rule would be picked! How could they put little kids up against people that old? They barely had a chance against 16 year old kids! This was sick and wrong!

Effie practically jumped about the new rule as she reached into the glass bowl that had the girl's names. Dean blocked out every noise. He was infuriated at how the system worked. It was disgusting, vile. Effie reached into the glass bowl that had the boy's names and pulled out a paper slip. "This year's male tribute is, Sam Winchester." In that instant, Dean felt his whole world collapse. What? No. No! That wasn't possible! Sam's name couldn't be in there more than 5 times out of thousands of papers! It wasn't possible! He scanned the crowd frantically for Sam until he saw his brother being escorted to the stage by peacekeepers. Dean went to run but John grabbed his arm. Dean shoved his father away and ran after Sam. "Sammy!" he screamed. Two peacekeepers stopped him just as Sam turned around. "Sammy, no!" Dean wailed. "I VOLUNTEER!" he screeched. He pushed the peacekeepers away and ran to his brother. Looking up at Effie he repeated his words, "I volunteer!"

"Dean, no!" shouted Sam. Dean walked right past Sam and walked up onto the stage. He stood tall beside the redhead that was the female tribute. John was already dragging Sam away, but Sam fought against his father. "No! DEAN! NO!" he screamed and struggled against John, but John was stronger. Dean looked at his brother and fought back tears.

Despite the small amount of chaos, Effie kept calm and collected. She brought the microphone to Dean, "We have a volunteer! What is your name?"

Dean felt a single tear roll down his cheek as he watched his brother overcome with hysteria. "Dean Winchester."

"Ah," sighed Effie, "that must have been your brother." Dean nodded his head yes. "Let's have a round of applause for Dean Winchester!" The crowd gave pathetic applause, not because no one cared enough to clap, but because they knew it wasn't worth celebrating. There was a good chance Dean wouldn't be coming back home.

Dean paced back and forth in the small room he was staying in. He was to wait in this room for any visitors, then, he'd be escorted to the train to be taken to the Capitol. His heart hammered in his chest. How would his father take care of Sam on his own? How would Sam be okay without someone to walk him to school, someone to make sure there's food on the table? Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the door to the room opening. Sam walked in and hugged Dean tightly as he burst into tears. Dean hugged back and fought against his own grief. "Shh, Sammy it's okay."

"Why, Dean?" asked Sam as tears rolled down his face. "You're my brother! I can't let you do this!" Dean wiped away tears from Sam's eyes.

"And I can't let you die in there, Sammy. I love you too much little brother. Now listen to me. You go to the Hob and talk to Tricia. She'll take care of you. Tell her you're my brother. Dad taught you to make traps. A few rabbits should be enough, but keep some to eat, okay?" Sam nodded and listened carefully to Dean's instructions.

"Dad taught us both how to hunt and how to fight when were young; maybe you can use those skills. Maybe…you can-"

The door flung open and a peacekeeper started taking Sam away, "Let's go, times up."

Dean quickly hugged Sam one last time. "I love you, Sammy!" he yelled unable to fight back the tears any longer.

"I-!" Sam was cut off by the door slamming shut. The door that cut off the last words Dean might ever hear from his baby brother. Dean sank down into a chair. Just when he was about to break, the door opened up again. He looked up to see his father.

"Dad," he said surprised. He didn't think his father would visit him.

"I can't believe you did this!" shouted John. Dean stood up and for the first time in his life, snapped back at his father.

"I had no choice! If you hadn't had Sam sign up for so much fucking tesserae he wouldn't have gotten reaped! I worked so hard to get his name out of that bowl! I SOLD MYSELF TO PEOPLE TO KEEP HIM SAFE BECAUSE OF YOU!" Dean screamed. He didn't care what the peacekeepers heard. He was dead anyway. "You better take care of him! Because if I find out anything happens to my little brother, I will rise from my grave and drag you back down with me! TAKE CARE OF SAM FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE!"

John narrowed his eyes at Dean. "I'll take care of Sam. Try not to get too banged up in there. And remember what I taught you." And with that, John left the room, leaving Dean to break down. Dean sank to the floor and cursed the world. How could a world be so cruel? Now he had to wipe away his tears before the cameras came. In that moment, he became determined. He would return home. He would come back to Sam. No matter what the costs, he would be the winner of the 50th annual Hunger Games.

**Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading! For those of you that follow my other work, don't shoot me. I have writers block on my other work, but I got inspiration to write this fic! So please bear with me! I hope you enjoyed. Be sure to leave a review telling me your thoughts, and check out my other stories if you haven't already. Alright thanks! Bye bye~**


	2. Chapter 2

Fight For Me

Chapter 2:

Sitting quietly in a large, blue, puffy chair, Dean stared out the window as he watched his home fade into the distance. _Sammy…_ He thought. He leaned back in the chair and looked around the room. Petite pastries were displayed on fancy serving trays, food was up for grabs all along the dining table, and the room was warm and comfortable. None if it mattered. Dean wasn't hungry, and he could be getting a massage and still be uncomfortable and sick to his stomach. He was quickly being taken further and further away from home.

Effie bounced around the train talking about all the luxuries Dean would be receiving before the games. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to block her nonsense out, but it was almost impossible to ignore her high voice and that stupid Capitol accent. Effie sat down across from Dean and huffed. "Honestly, Dean, cheer up! You have so many luxuries here! You have so much wonderful food and your clothes-"

"Look, lady," snapped Dean, cutting her off, "I was just taken from my family and I'm going to be thrown into an arena to be murdered. Excuse me if I'm not in bright spirits."

Effie opened her mouth to respond, but simply closed it and looked away. Before she could think of anything to say, the redheaded girl that was chosen to be the female tribute stepped into the room. "He's not wrong." She walked over to Dean and stuck out her hand. "I'm Charlie."

Dean shook her hand, "Dean."

"I saw what you did for your brother," said Charlie in a surprisingly neutral tone. "That was brave. I admire you for it."

"Thanks…" Dean murmured. He suddenly smiled. "I'd say you're cool, but I may have to kill you soon." He couldn't help but to chuckle. To his surprise, Charlie laughed a little as well.

"Oh we'll see about that, I just might kill you first," she winked. Dean raised his hands in surrender and laughed again. Charlie started laughing harder and eventually took a seat. "Whoo! I feel a six pack coming on. I'll need it to survive!" Now the room was filled with Dean and Charlie's hysterical laughter. Dean wasn't sure if it was because what was said was actually funny, or if both he and Charlie were just scared straight into insanity.

"So," Dean began after he finally stopped laughing, "think you have any chances of winning?"

"Oh absolutely none, but I have to try. We get a while to train, so maybe I can at least go out like a boss," replied Charlie.

"Yeah I'm going to try too, but I'll probably get stabbed at the cornucopia."

"Both of you!" shouted Effie out of nowhere. "You need to be more positive! It's true that District 12 hasn't had a winner in a very long time, _but_ there's always a chance you'll get lucky."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, the luckiest I'll get is getting hanged or something by a regular tribute. Not cut and ripped to pieces by a Career."

"I hate Careers," said Charlie in utter disgust. "A Career killed my sister two years ago. Cut 'designs' in her arms and legs and let her bleed out on camera…"

Dean's smile faded instantly. He thought of Sam, and the idea of watching him cut and tortured made Dean sick. "I'm so sorry." Charlie simply shrugged.

Silence fell over the room, and it lasted for about 30 minutes. Then, the door to the room opened and a blonde man stumbled inside. "Where's the ice?" he asked in a slurred voice.

Effie rolled her eyes, "Over there," she gestured. "Dean, Charlie, this is Haymitch. He's your mentor." _Oh, well I'm fucked._ Dean thought to himself.

Haymitch stumbled over to the ice and drinks and poured a glass of whiskey. He practically fell down in his chair. "So, what dead meat do I have to work with this year?"

"This is Dean Winchester, and Charlie Bradbury," said Effie calmly, trying to not show her irritation. "They're both lovely young people. And they're older than the last tributes we had. Dean is 20, and Charlie is 19."

Haymitch threw his head back in laughter, "Right because their ages are going to make a difference." He turned to face Dean and Charlie and took a sip of whiskey. "Know this, and know this now, you're screwed. Your district learns no skills at all. So eat, drink, and waste away while you can."

"Alright douchebag, hear me and hear me clearly," said Dean as he got to his feet. He walked over and towered over Haymitch. "I volunteered to save my brother's life. And I'll be damned if I leave him to live alone with my father in that district!" Dean slapped the drink out of Haymitch's hand, causing Effie to jump and Charlie to smile. "So sober up, and do your job as our mentor and teach us how to survive, or you'll be the first throat I slit!"

Haymitch simply say quietly in his chair as Dean stormed off into another room. The doors closed behind Dean and Haymitch turned his attention to Effie, "I like him."

Dean disappeared into the room that was for him and collapsed on the bed. He grabbed the remote to the TV and turned it on. The first thing he saw was a girl that had been beat to death in the 13th annual Hunger Games. He changed the channel. A boy from the 26th annual Hunger Games was being mauled by a mutant creature. He changed the channel. Once blood appeared on the screen he turned off the TV and chucked the remote across the room. All the stations were showing were recaps, which meant he had no mental escape from his fate.

The door to Dean's room suddenly opened. Charlie tapped on the door frame. "Can I come in?" Dean shrugged and Charlie took that as a yes. She walked in the room and the door closed behind her. "I know how you feel…" she trailed off for a moment. She sat on the edge of Dean's bed by his feet and stared at the floor. "My mom is ill. My dad works in the mines. My sister is dead."

"I'm sorry," said Dean maneuvering to sit next to Charlie. He placed his hand on her knee. "Maybe you can win."

Charlie scoffed, "Right, and while I'm at it I'll became Capitol's next top model too!" She turned to look at Dean. "I have no shot. I have no skills. And I was watching the TV earlier, Dean. This year's tributes are tough."

"So what then? You're just going to give up?"

"No. I think we should work together. Maybe with the two of us, we can at least go out with a fight. And maybe you can win and go home to your brother."

Dean had to give it some thought for a moment. Could he really trust Charlie? She seemed genuine, but some tributes played cruel tricks to win these games. After a moment, he realized he had nothing to lose. "On one condition. If I'm out numbered, and you have the chance to run, run. Don't stay back and try to help me. Get out of there, so you can go home to your mother."

Charlie gave Dean a small smile. "Back at you, deal? Make sure your brother is safe."

"Deal." Dean and Charlie shook hands and exchanged genuine smiles. They both hoped for the best, but expected the worst.

Night eventually came, and sleep just wouldn't find its way to Dean. He tossed and turned over and over. Despite the bed's extreme comfort, he was too shaken to drift away. Giving up, he stepped out of bed and made his way to the shower. He undressed, despite his feeling of being watched, and stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door behind him. It was a double sided mirror. Anyone on the outside would see their reflection, and Dean could see out. A holographic panel appeared on the wall with several options to adjust the shower to Dean's liking. Dean selected a water temperature that was comfortable for his skin, and picked a shampoo at random. They were all frilly girly scents anyway.

The water poured down from the ceiling like rain, making Dean feel like he was in the woods again on a stormy day. No matter what the weather, Dean hunted every day. His father taught both him and Sam how to shoot arrows, use knifes in combat and for gutting animals, how to set traps, and how to fight. All of the skills Dean and Sam knew had passed on for generations, and it was all Dean had to cling onto for hope. He had to hope that Sam would use the skills he had to survive. He had to hope that somehow his own skills would keep him alive in the arena. It was those damn Careers; they were nearly impossible to beat. Careers trained in a special academy until they turned 18, then they volunteered. It was technically illegal to train before the games, but hey, lethal kids equaled entertainment, so who cares, right?

Dean turned off the shower and stepped out onto a mat. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He returned to bed, not bothering to get dressed, and let exhaustion take over.

_Ouch!_ Dean thought, be refused to say out loud. He didn't want to sound like a wimp. The moment he and Charlie arrived at the Capitol, they were taken to a building designed just for the Hunger Games. There were living quarters, and everything needed to get the tributes ready for screen time. Dean was being plucked and poked and everything in between by his prep team. They circled him like hawks, each of them handling something different. A normal person would feel slightly shamed being completely nude in front of strangers, but after his experiences in District 12, his body was something less than private to him. _OWW!_ He wanted to shout. The prep team member with flaming red hair and purple lips, Flavius, was plucking his eyebrows until they were the perfect shape. A large, round woman, Octavia, was starting up a bath for Dean.

Before Dean could protest, he was forced into the bath where he was scrubbed until he felt like he had easily lost five layers of skin. Octavia washed his hair while Flavius started scrubbing the dead skin off of his heels. The third prep team member had burst into tears for some reason and was no longer assisting. _What the hell is the point of this?_ Dean wondered. Why were these people making him look better, when they were about to send him to get his head ripped off?

"Oh, darling, you're looking wonderful!" said Octavia as she helped Dean out of the bath and began to dry him off. "Cinna is going to _love_ you! Oh, he won't be able to get enough of this chiseled chin!" she exclaimed, showing Dean's sharp features to Flavius.

Flavius pretended to fan himself with his hand, "It's almost too much to bare Octavia, dear! Cinna is going to be so excited! Though I'm so sad he won't let us do anything with this," he gingerly placed his hand on Dean's chest. Dean fought his natural instincts to shove Flavius away and drop kick him to the ground. Flavius sighed. "But of course, he gets to work with your best features. But-"

"No!" Octavia smacked away Flavius' hand. "Cinna said his torso is off limits!"

Flavius and Octavia began to chat amongst themselves about what was on and off limits for them to work with. Dean couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed. He knew his body wasn't his own in the Capitol, but having these two people stroking him and discussing his physique made him uncomfortable.

"Okay, our time with you is up…" said Octavia sadly. "For now!" She rapped a robe around Dean and had him sit down. "We'll get to see you again, but for now, you belong to Cinna." Octavia sniffled. "Good luck darling." She kissed Dean on the cheek and left with Flavius.

Dean wiped away the kiss stubbornly and sat in the chair awkwardly, waiting for his stylist to arrive.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Cinna stepped in the room. "Hello, Dean, how are you?"

"Besides my aching eyebrows, I'd say I'm still doing pretty shitty," said Dean not bothering to look Cinna in the eye.

Cinna sat down in the chair across from Dean. "You're better prepared than the other tributes I've worked on in the past. Most of them didn't even have the guts to admit that they're scared."

"I never said I was scared."

"You didn't have to." Cinna smiled softly. Dean turned his head away and stared out the window. "Look, I'm here to help you. Your prep team, this is all they know. But I know how these games work. You're going to need sponsors to survive. And that's why I'm here. I'm going to help you make an impression. You and Charlie."

Dean finally met Cinna's eyes. He shook his head. "We're two losers from District 12. No one is going to sponsor us."

"They will if you make the right impression. Don't let yourself come across as losers from District 12. Let yourselves come across as warriors. Just give me a chance. Opening night, you'll see."

"Fine," snapped Dean.

Cinna smiled again. "Now, I know you probably don't like this, but I need to see what I'm working with." Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his robe to the floor as he stood up.

"Believe me, I'm immune to this after Flavius groped me."

"Yeah he'll do that." Cinna stood to his feet to meet Dean's gaze. "The good news is, you already look like a warrior. Now you just have to act like it. That's going to be your reputation."

"So what? I'm just going to be that brainless 'I pick things up and put them down' tribute?"

"You can look like a warrior and have a brain. Trust me, we'll have everything figured out by the time it's time for your interview with Caesar." Dean nodded his head and took a deep breath. Cinna picked up Dean's robe and handed it to him. "Try to be a little modest." Cinna gave Dean a wink, earning a small smile from the emerald eyed tribute. "Alright, let's get to work."

Cinna went quick to work adding the finishing touches on Dean. Dean struggled to stay still when Cinna started applying eyeliner. He couldn't believe he was wearing makeup. He felt insulted, but Cinna had promised to help him. He had to have a little faith. Cinna finished applying light touches of gold eye liner to the top of Dean's eyelid. Next he pulled out a bottle of lotion and started rubbing it over Dean's chest. Dean huffed.

"Don't question it. We need the cameras to catch every good angle." Cinna rubbed on lotion until Dean's skin practically glowed. He added some last minute touch ups to make sure Dean's complexion was perfect. "There."

"Do I look like a girl now?"

Cinna chuckled. "Go look in the mirror." Dean rolled his eyes and walked over to the mirror across the room. He could feel his jaw drop. There was no way the magnificent creature in the mirror was him. His eyes may have had makeup, but they stood out. It didn't look like he was wearing makeup; it looked like his eyes were shining like real emeralds. His complexion was perfect. His torso glowed. Could that really be himself staring back? He gently brought his hand up the mirror and touched his reflection.

"Pretty impressive," said Cinna. He leaned against the doorframe. "Wait until you see the clothes I've designed for you and Charlie." Dean turned to Cinna and gave a small smile. He brought his gaze back to his reflection one last time. He looked amazing, and it began to disgust him. He hadn't even been presented to the public yet, and he already felt like a puppet.

Dean looked around as all the tributes were getting last minute adjustments done to their costumes. For lack of a better term, that's what tributes wore for opening night, costumes. Each district wore something based on what their district specialized in. Not too far away, he could see the District 7 tributes being fitted for costumes that make their skin look like the bark of a tree. District 7 specialized in lumber, but that outfit was cruel to make anyone wear on national television.

Looking down at his own costume, Dean wasn't entirely certain what Cinna's gimmick was supposed to be. He and Charlie had matching outfits, much the other district's tributes, but they didn't look totally ridiculous. He and Charlie were both wearing slick, black, full body suits. Well, almost full body. Charlie's suit came down in a swoop neck style that showed off some cleavage, but not as much as expected. Dean's suit clung to his arms and shoulders, but his whole chest was bare.

Charlie looked much different than Dean had expected. He figured Cinna would make her look like a prostitute, which is what the other female tributes looked like. Charlie, however, didn't look like that at all. Her hair was styled in perfect waves that fell down her back, and heir bangs had been braided and tied back. Her eyes popped and her skin was flawless. But despite it all, she still looked like a warrior.

"Are you ready for this?" asked Charlie, the nervousness showing in her voice. She tugged at the fabric that clung tightly to her skin. Dean had to agree. The clothes were extremely tight. His muscles bulged underneath the fabric that seemed to cling to his biceps a little too well.

"I'm as ready as anyone else here," replied Dean trying to mask his own nerves.

Charlie gestured over to some tributes across the way. "Not anyone. Check out this year's Careers."

District 1's tributes were looking extremely confident. They were dressed in absolutely ridiculous costumes. They were wearing pink feathers for Christ sake. The girl was blonde with dangerous hazel eyes. The boy was tall and lean. He wasn't built like some of the other tributes. He was thin, but Dean assumed he was pure muscle. He had sandy brown hair and green eyes that glowed like poison.

District 2's tributes were equally as intimidating. The girl had short raven hair and was dressed up like a Greek Goddess, complete with a helmet that had wings on the sides. She held her head up like she was better than everyone around her. Dean rolled his eyes. He looked over the male tribute. The male tribute had to be at least 20 years old. He was thin, but he was cut. His outfit was designed to show off his very defined back muscles. He had short black hair and blue eyes that were the color of crystal. Dean was a decent distance away, but he could see the boys eyes sparkle. He suddenly forgot how to breathe, and stood in place not moving.

"Dean. DEAN!" shouted Charlie.

"What, what, what?" Dean rambled snapping out of his trance.

"I know she's pretty, but stay focused. You might have to kill her you know," Charlie rolled her eyes and glared slightly at the female tribute from District 2.

"Yeah…she…" Dean felt his mouth go dry. Why couldn't he take his eyes off of the male tribute? Dean's breath caught when the male tribute looked up and their eyes met. Dean expected to be scoffed at, but the District 2 tribute smiled at him before turning his head away. Did a Career just…smile…at him..?

"Okay, let's get this going," said Cinna. Dean snapped out of it and turned his attention to his stylist. He stole one last glance at the male tribute before giving Cinna his _complete_ attention. "You're going to feel some heat behind you, okay?" Both Dean and Charlie nodded their heads. "Okay. Now, I want you two to stare ahead of the crowd. Don't look at anyone, don't smile, unless it's a cocky smile. Ready?"

"Yes," said Dean and Charlie.

"Good." Cinna helped Dean and Charlie get situated in their chariot. The horses were trained, and didn't need direction, which was a relief. Dean and Charlie stared ahead and waited for their turn to go out.

One by one, chariots disappeared as they headed out to be showered with admiration from the crowd. Dean could barely hear the announcers praising the first two districts. After that, the praise turned into simple recognition. Finally, Dean and Charlie felt the chariot begin to move. Before Dean's eyes could even adjust to the bright lights, the crowd was going wild. He could feel a strong sensation of heat behind him. He looked up at the big screens and realized why the crowd was cheering so loudly. Fire raged furiously in the chariot behind him and Charlie. The flames danced, and somehow made the shape of a throne. Suddenly what Cinna said had made sense. They were supposed to stare ahead and act like they were better because they were. They were acting like they had already won the games.

The chariots formed in a U shape in front of the balcony where the President of Panem, President Snow, was soon to show. President Snow stepped out and waved his hands to calm down the audience. "Welcome, tributes. We welcome you to the 50th annual hunger games." The crowd erupted into applause again. "Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favor."

The chariots brought everyone back inside. Soon enough most tributes were stripping out of most of their costumes. Dean and Charlie couldn't take off their costumes yet, so they headed back the elevator with Haymitch. Haymitch pressed the button to shoot them up to the 12th floor. "Not bad, you two. Not bad at all." The elevator opened up to the living quarters for District 12 tributes. "Now you need to keep up your reputation. You came across as tough tributes that feel they've already won. Act like that, and I'll be able to get your some decent sponsors. It's the only way you'll survive these games."

Dean and Charlie returned to their rooms. Effie instructed them to take one hour to shower and change, and then be present for dinner. Dean peeled off his black skin suit and stepped into the shower. He took almost the whole hour to scrub off the lotion and makeup. He stepped out of the shower and picked out a simple blue shirt and grey jeans to wear. After dressing, he joined Haymitch, Effie, and Charlie at the dinner table.

"You two were marvelous!" exclaimed Effie in glee. "So beautiful! Stunning! You looked like champions."

"That was kinda the point," said Dean before shoveling in a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Well," started Effie trying to excuse Dean's poor manners, "the point was made well."

Haymitch took a sip of whiskey and sighed. "Almost too well. The Careers have their eyes on you. District 1 especially, Jo and Adam. And the female tribute, Lisa, from District 2."

"What about the male tribute?" asked Dean. He suddenly wondered why he was bothering to ask.

"That's Castiel," said Haymitch with a slight laugh. "It's strange, he's not like most Careers. He carries himself as quite friendly."

"Maybe it's a new tactic," Charlie suggested. She ate a forkful of chicken and rice. "This is so good!" She ate a little more before continuing. "I heard that sometimes Careers will play the 'I was forced to do this and I'm actually nice' card so they're not viewed as dangerous."

Haymitch shrugged. "That could be it, but it doesn't matter. Whatever you do, stay away from the Careers. They're dangerous and not to be trusted."

"Damn straight they're not to be trusted. My sister formed an alliance with them when she was reaped. They murdered her the second day. They tied her up while she was asleep and killed her slowly for entertainment," said Charlie bitterly.

"And they will do things like that to you. They've been trained to entertain the audience and win at any cost," Haymitch looked over at Charlie. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks…"

"So what's the best way to go about this?" asked Dean.

"Allies are good way to survive, but it depends on what you're comfortable with morally. Because if it comes down to it-" Haymitch began.

"We'll have to kill them," Charlie finished.

Haymitch nodded. "Yes, and that isn't always easy. So if you decide to ally with someone, be prepared. But never ally with a Career, no matter what they offer up."

"Stay away from the Careers no matter what. We got it," snapped Dean.

Haymitch leaned forward in his seat. "Don't get smart with me, Winchester. I'm trying to keep you alive. You can do whatever the hell you want, but if you want to go home and see your family again, you'll shut your trap and listen to what I have to say." Dean averted his eyes from Haymitch. "Now. Let's talk skills. What can you two do?"

"I can use a knife," said Charlie. "I taught myself how to throw it pretty well when I was bored. And I know herbs and plants. My mom is a nurse."

"Not bad," said Haymitch as he flagged down an Avox to get some more alcohol. "Dean?"

Dean adjusted in his seat, "I um…I can shoot arrows. I can use a knife. I can set traps. I can fight…" he trailed off.

"Nothing you say here will get you in any more trouble. As far as the Capitol is concerned, you're already dead. You'll need to use all of those skills. Don't be afraid. Most of that will keep you alive and provide entertainment. Now, both of you, don't show off any known skills during training. Learn new skills instead. That way your competition won't know what to expect, and you can gain more chances at survival."

Haymitch continued to give advice, but Dean's thoughts were elsewhere. He couldn't help but to think about the male tribute from District 2. _Castiel._ He didn't know why, but something drew him to that tribute. It was dangerous. He tried to clear his thoughts, but he simply couldn't focus. He sighed. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow he would start his first day of training.

**Heyy! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review telling me your thoughts! And don't forget to check out my other work if you liked this. Thanks again, bye bye~**


	3. Chapter 3

Fight For Me

Chapter 3:

Dean tugged nervously at his training uniform, which was black with "12" on the sleeves and on the back. All the tributes had gathered in the training room. The instructor was explaining the different stations that would be available. "And most importantly, no fighting with the other tributes. There are trained professionals available if you need a sparring partner. Good luck."

Charlie let out a huff and turned to Dean. She lowered her voice. "So what's our plan?"

"Let's start with basic survival skills," replied Dean in a similar hushed tone. "Building fires, poison versus non-poison, tying knots, and whatever else is available. But no one should know we're working together."

"Agreed. You start with the fire and I'll go memorize plants. That'll be easiest for me." Charlie looked over at the fire building station and spotted Lisa. "There's your girlfriend." Charlie winked and headed over to the station for identifying plants. Dean could feel blush creep onto his cheeks. Charlie thought he had been looking at Lisa. He decided that was probably a good thing. He walked over the fire building station and sat down next to Lisa. The instructor explained the basics and handed them the only tools they were allowed, which was just wood.

Dean and Lisa ignored each other and both attempted to build fires. Lisa struggled to get friction and eventually threw a wooden stick across the room. Dean tried not to laugh. It took him a few tries, but eventually he was able to get a fire started. He looked up to see Lisa glaring at him.

"Castiel!" shouted Lisa as she stood up. Castiel walked over to Lisa and Dean could feel his heart rate pick up. "You learn how to do this after we throw some spears because I'm fed up!"

Castiel chuckled and smiled. "Sure thing, Lisa. Let's go get in line." Lisa stormed off; Castiel followed, but not before smiling at Dean and waving goodbye as he walked away. Dean stared at Castiel with parted lips. He waved back, but by the time he was able to raise his arm, Castiel had already turned his back to Dean. Charlie walked over just in time to see Dean looking like he had been hypnotized.

"Dean!" she snapped in a whisper.

Dean blinked and snapped his head in Charlie's direction. "What?" Charlie pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.

"Head in the game, big boy. She'll snap you like a twig." Charlie walked back to the plant station, leaving Dean to snap back into reality on his own. What snapped him back wasn't Charlie, however, it was the fact he began to feel something painful on his leg. He looked down to see his pant leg had caught on fire.

"Shit!" he shouted. He got to his feet and tried stomping around to put out the fire. The fire eventually went out since it was small, but Dean had earned laughter from all the other tributes. Even Charlie laughed. Dean felt his whole face get red as watched 23 other people laugh at his expense. That's when he noticed not every tribute was laughing. Castiel wasn't laughing at all. Had he seen?

"I thought you were supposed to be good with fire, Winchester," said Jo. Everyone besides Castiel and Charlie laughed again.

"Didn't you hear?" asked Adam. "The guy doesn't work in the coal mines even though he's 20. No wonder he'd fuck up like that." Laughter erupted again.

"Alright, break it up, back to training," said the main instructor, taking pity on Dean. All the tributes laughter faded into giggles and snarky remarks whispered amongst themselves. Dean stayed at the fire building station and tried not to catch anyone's gaze.

After a little while Dean had the technique down pretty well. His eyes were on his growing fire when he noticed someone sit next to him. He looked up to see Castiel. His heart jumped up into his throat. Castiel smiled at him, "Hi, I'm Castiel."

"D-Dean," replied Dean completely flabbergasted. A Career was speaking to him _nicely._ "My name's Dean."

Castiel beamed. "It's good to meet you." He picked up some wood and started attempting to make a fire. Dean remained silent. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't say anything. For some reason, Castiel took his breath away. There was something in the way Castiel's hair fell, and the way his eyes glowed from the small fire. After a few moments, Castiel decided to break the silence himself. "I saw what you did for your brother. It was very brave."

"Thank you," said Dean quietly. His thoughts started to go back to Sam. Was he okay? Was he hungry? Scared?

"Castiel," said Lisa as she walked over, "enough with the fire. Come sword fight."

Castiel nodded his head. "Sure, Lisa." He turned to Dean and gave a small wave before running off with Lisa.

Dean eventually left the fire building station and went to knot tying. After knot tying he tried his hand at determining poison from non-poisonous plants and bugs. He had to admit that without Charlie, he'd probably end up killing himself by mistake.

The instructor came in and told everyone to take a break for lunch. Dean and Charlie sat together. Most of the tributes either ate alone, or with their fellow tribute from their district. The Careers were the only group eating together. Dean caught himself looking over at Castiel again. Castiel was talking and laughing, and he seemed so happy. Dean couldn't help but wonder how someone that seemed so kind could be a trained killer.

"Dean, I'm going to punch you," said Charlie.

Dean looked away from Castiel and turned his attention to Charlie with a look of confusion. "What? What did I do?"

"Will you stop checking out the competition? Careers should be targets, not love interests." Charlie smacked Dean's shoulder.

"I'm not checking him out!" Dean snapped in a hushed tone.

Charlie blinked a few times. "_Him?_" she asked making sure she heard correctly. Dean's cheeks instantly turned a bright shade of red. He stuttered, trying to form words, but nothing would come out. Charlie leaned closer to Dean and whispered, "Are you gay?" Dean slowly nodded his head. He felt so ashamed. Charlie was probably going to turn away in disgust. Just when Dean was about to get up and leave he noticed Charlie grinning ear to ear. She touched him arm lightly. "It's okay! I'm a lesbian!"

Dean's face turned from remorse to shock and happiness. "You are?" he asked in a whisper despite wanting to shout. Charlie nodded excitedly. Dean sighed in relief and smiled. Finally, someone who understood.

Both Dean and Charlie couldn't help but to want to gossip about the other tributes, but they knew that if anyone heard it could turn sour. They decided to hold in any giggles they had until training was over. Despite this, Charlie couldn't help but to glance at Castiel, and then look at Dean with a provocative grin before running off to the knot tying station. Dean couldn't help but to grin as he made his way to try his hand at throwing a spear. He couldn't help but to feel happy that Charlie wasn't judging him. He had always been ridiculed back in District 12. Even though he never came out, most people assumed. He never brought any girls home, and he had an unfortunate tendency to look at the few attractive men that worked in the mines.

When it was Dean's turn to throw spears, the instructor taught him the proper stance to throw a spear, but Dean was struggling. He could throw just fine, but his aim was off. After hitting the arm of the human shaped target four times in a row, he tossed the last spear away in frustration. Before he could walk away, he saw Castiel pick the spear up from the ground and hand to him.

"Don't give up," said Castiel as he let Dean take the spear back. "Your form is good, you just need to adjust your aim by the way—"

"Castiel!" shouted Lisa as she marched over. "For Christ sake don't help him!" She glared at Dean. "You're not working with us if that's what you think. For-get-it."

"Lisa, I was just handing it back to him," said Castiel placing a hand on Lisa's shoulder. "We're in this together. Don't worry about it."

Lisa transferred her glare to Castiel, "Meet me at archery." She walked away with a huff.

Castiel started to walk away, but first he whispered in Dean's ear. "Turn your torso to the right and try one more time." He pulled away and winked before joining Lisa.

Dean felt his breath catch again. He looked over to see Charlie barely holding in her laughter. He shook his head at her and turned back to the target. Turning his torso to his right, he threw the spear. A few tributes clapped when they noticed that Dean had skewered the targets heart. Dean suddenly wasn't sure if he was smiling because of his success, or because he was able to achieve his success because of Castiel. Either way, he smiled and continued to practice until he had the technique down to a science. Castiel gave Dean a thumbs-up when Lisa wasn't looking. Dean felt himself blush and quickly moved to another station before Castiel could see.

"You'll never be one of us, Winchester," said Lisa as she walked by.

Dean narrowed his eyes and tried to just ignore it, but he had, had enough. "Well that's good. See at least since I'm a guy, I can be buff and still get a date."

Lisa stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. "What did you say to me?" The other tributes whispered and laughed.

"I said at least I can get a date. By the way you cling to Castiel, I'm assuming he's the only guy that'll talk to you," said Dean as he crossed his arms.

"OHHH!" shouted the other tributes, including Charlie whom was stifling her laughter. Castiel had to remain completely still in order not to laugh.

Lisa stepped up to Dean. She had to look up at him, but she showed no fear despite the massive difference in height. Dean was easily six feet tall, and Lisa was only about 5'7. Lisa pressed one finger to Dean's chest. "You better watch yourself. When we get into that arena, you'll be the first son of a bitch I let bleed out." She walked away and grabbed Castiel, dragging him to a different part of the training room away from everyone else.

The time allotted for training ended and everyone headed back to their living quarters. Tributes loaded the elevators. Castiel went to get on the same elevator as Lisa, but the doors closed on him. Dean noticed this and held the door to the elevator he and Charlie were on. "Castiel."

Castiel turned around and saw Dean holding the door. "Oh! Thank you!" he said as quickly jogged over and stepped in the elevator. "Thank you, Dean. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem," said Dean as he pushed the button labeled "2". Normally the elevator shot up right away, but for some reason the elevator was staying in place. Castiel took the opportunity to attempt small talk without Lisa's input.

"You did really well at throwing spears," he said.

Dean couldn't help but to smile. "Thanks. What you told me really helped."

"I'm glad." Silence fell. Dean wanted to keep talking, but what was he supposed to discuss with a Career? Castiel decided to keep trying to talk regardless. "I'm sorry about Lisa."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I really don't care. I just got annoyed," said Dean suddenly feeling embarrassed. Lisa was probably Castiel's friend, and what he had said earlier might have been an insult to Castiel as much as it was to Lisa.

Castiel chuckled. "That's understandable. Lisa can be very overbearing."

"Yeah…" Dean trailed off. "This is ridiculous." He pushed the emergency call button. Something was clearly wrong with the elevator. As he looked up at the camera and waved, hoping to get someone's attention, he didn't notice Castiel's expression turn sad. Castiel felt like he had bothered Dean and now really hoped the elevator would work soon.

Suddenly a voice came from the camera overhead. "Sorry, tributes, we're having some difficulties. It may be a while."

"Are you kidding me?" groaned Charlie as she sank to a seated position. Dean and Castiel sat down as well, both of them huffing in frustration.

Several minutes passed in silence, and eventually Charlie had come up with a decent scheme to get Dean and Castiel speaking. "Okay, let's play never have I ever. I'm bored as fuck here."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Fine."

"What?" asked Castiel confused. "I've never heard of this."

"It's a game," said Dean. "Hold up ten fingers." Castiel did as told still looking confused. Dean held up ten fingers as well. "Good. Now we're going to take turns. One person says something they've never done. And if you have done it, you lose a finger." Dean folded in his thumb. "If you haven't done it either, you keep it up. Last person with fingers up wins."

"What is the point of this…?" asked Castiel trying not to sound rude.

"It's a District 12 game you learn as a kid, and there's nothing better to do in this elevator, unless you have a better idea," said Charlie. Castiel shook his head. Charlie smiled. "Then I'll go first."

The children's game went on and worked out better than Charlie had expected. Dean and Castiel were both laughing and sharing stories like the two had known each other for years. Dean finished one of this stories and Charlie almost fell over in laughter. "Okay, okay," she said trying to catch her breath.

"Okay, never have I ever…" Dean paused trying to think of something. An idea popped into his head and he instantly felt embarrassed, but it was all he could think of at the moment. "Kissed a girl." Castiel kept his six remaining fingers up. Dean couldn't help but to feel shocked. Castiel had NEVER kissed a girl? Charlie's face turned crimson and she put a finger down.

Castiel chuckled. "Charlie? I didn't take you for a lesbian."

"Guilty as charged," said Charlie trying to will her blush to go away.

"That explains why you're the only girl that's not falling over Adam."

"Adam? God no! Now there's this really cute brown girl from District 5, and she has these_ huge_," Charlie gestured to her chest. Both Dean and Castiel started laughing. "I can't believe you've never kissed a girl, Castiel."

"Never found the right girl I guess…" Castiel trailed off. Dean felt his smile fade. Guess Castiel hadn't kissed a girl for a different reason than he had secretly hoped. "But anyway."

"My turn! Never have I ever…" Charlie felt a wide smirk form on her lips, "kissed a BOY." Both Dean and Castiel turned bright red put a finger down. Once they noticed that the other had put a finger down, wide smiles crept onto their lips.

"You're not," said Dean trying to make his smile fade.

Castiel felt his face somehow turn even redder and he nearly giggled. "I am…and you?" It was Dean's turn to giggle quietly out of sheer embarrassment.

"Maybe," he said shooting Charlie a playful glare. He knew what she was up to. His main question was how she knew that Castiel was gay. Did she know, or did she just take a chance?

"Looks like we're all a bunch of misfits," said Charlie. Dean and Castiel both smiled and agreed with small laughs.

"Okay it's working now," said a voice from the camera in the top corner of the elevator.

"I win!" exclaimed Castiel as he got to his feet. Dean and Charlie stood up along with him. The elevator shot up to the District 2 living space. The doors started to open, but Castiel stopped them. He leaned and whispered to Dean, "If you want, meet me in the main living room at midnight. Lisa will be asleep." Castiel allowed the doors to open, revealing a very angry Lisa. "It got stuck. I'm here." Lisa narrowed her eyes at Dean and Charlie. She grabbed Castiel's arm and started to drag him away. Castiel turned his head and gave Dean a wink before the elevator doors closed.

"AHHHHHH!" Charlie screamed whilst jumping up and down. Dean jumped backwards away from her.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked as he pushed the button labeled "12".

Charlie bounced on her toes. "You _liiiike_ him! And he _liiiikes_ you!" she squealed.

"Charlie incase no one ever told you, you're insane!" Dean stepped out of the elevator.

"No, I'm not! Come on! There's nothing wrong with having some fun while we can. We're probably going to die anyway. You said that yourself. Why not live a little?"

"Because I might have to kill him!"

"Kill who?" asked Haymitch as he walked into the living room.

"No one," said Dean.

"Making friends are we?" Haymitch rolled his eyes and walked over to get a drink. "I told you, allies are fine, but don't make friends. That's the mistake I made in the past."

Charlie walked over to Haymitch, "It couldn't have been that bad. Right?"

"It was a girl. I fell in love with her. We went our separate ways because we didn't want to hurt each other. Then, she was murdered and I had to live with it. I still live with it. Don't. Get. Attached. To anyone."

"But we're going to probably die in there. Why not live a little?"

"Others may not be as accepting with their fate as you are sweetheart," Haymitch huffed and grabbed some food. "And I thought you were going to fight."

Charlie sighed, "I'm not giving up, but I also know I'm no fighter."

"Well that's you," said Dean. "I'm going to fight. And I'm going home. So you live it up, I'm going to earn my ticket home." Dean walked into his room and allowed the doors to close behind him before he punched a wall. He held his fist in pain. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be there to take care of Sam, but he knew his chances. How was he going to win? How was he going to beat the Careers, especially when he couldn't imagine hurting one of them? He lay in bed and stared out the window that looked over the Capitol and wondered how things could possibly get any worse.

It was 11:45 p.m. Dean stared at the clock and pondered Castiel's earlier offer. Should he go_…_?_ I smell bad. _He told himself. There. That was a good excuse. Dean didn't know if he blacked out, but somehow next thing he knew he was taking the fastest shower of his life. He shook his head. What was he doing? This was ridiculous. He stepped out of the shower and started looking through his clothes. How stupid could he be? He might have to _kill _Castiel, and there he was picking out the best clothes to go meet Castiel in secret. Eventually, Dean picked out a nice, green and grey plaid shirt, and dark blue jeans. He buttoned the sleeves at the elbow and combed his hair. _I'm an idiot…_ He thought. He glanced at the clock. 11:55 p.m. He quickly tip-toed out of his room and couldn't be more thankful that the elevator was silent. He pressed the button labeled "lobby". The elevator came to a halt and he stepped out into the living room that was for all tributes.

Several minutes passed and Castiel was still nowhere to be found. Dean looked at the clock. 12:10. Had it been a joke? Was he a fool for even showing up? He pinched the bridge of nose and couldn't believe he had been so stupid. Just as he was ready to leave the elevator opened up to reveal Castiel. Castiel was wearing a white button up shirt and light blue jeans. He waved at Dean and hurried over. He sat next to Dean on the couch. "I'm so sorry I'm late!" he whispered. "Lisa woke up and I had to make up a story. Then I had to wait for her to fall asleep again."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you came," said Dean.

"I'm glad you came too. I wasn't sure if you'd show up," mumbled Castiel as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I realized after the elevator closed that what I said might have sounded weird…"

"No, not at all. I was mainly just surprised. I didn't think you'd want to talk to me. I mean you're a Career and I'm a loser from District 12."

"Yeah, I'm a Career… And I couldn't hate it more."

"Really?" Dean adjusted in his seat, maneuvering closer to Castiel. "I didn't think that Careers didn't like being Careers. I thought you chose to train for this."

"No. My family is trying to make it a tradition. My father won the games when he was 18. And I was supposed to do the same. But another guy volunteered before I could. Then…this year with the rule change…I had to resume my training to prepare."

Dean waved his hand. "Hold up. You knew about the rule?"

"The Capitol always informs District 1 and District 2 about Quarter Quell rule changes so that us Careers can better prepare for a good show. And being 20 years old, I was their first choice. So my family was the first to know about it."

"No offense, but that's sick and wrong."

Castiel nodded his head. "Oh I completely agree. I don't want any part of this. But I have no choice. Believe me, it's not fun being feared. It's horrible. I've spent my whole life trained to be a killer. And all I ever wanted was to be normal. In more ways than one…" Castiel trailed off.

"I've never been very comfortable with it either," whispered Dean in a comforting tone. "My father guessed about one day, and told me he'd kick me out if I ever brought a guy home. I was supposed to woo a girl and keep the Winchester name strong, as if that matters these days."

Castiel's eyebrows knit. "I'm so sorry." Dean shrugged. "If it helps, I had to hide too. Hell if my dad ever found out, I think he'd kill me. I'm supposed to win these games and keep the Novak name honorable and feared in District 2. Then of course, I'm supposed to marry this girl Hannah."

"Wait, what?" asked Dean a little too loudly. He brought his head down and whispered, "Wait, what? You're kidding right?" Castiel shook his head. "Does she know?" Castiel shook his head again. "So, if you win, you're still going to go through with that marriage?"

Castiel sighed, "Yes. I don't want to, but I don't have a choice. Hannah is a beautiful woman. And if my father suspects anything, I will have been better off dying in the games."

"Well, despite that, I hope you win," whispered Dean with a small smile. "You've been training so long, I'm sure you'll be fine."

Castiel smiled and looked away. He stared out the window that looked out into the city. "That's kind, but I don't know. Part of me doesn't want to win, even if that means dying. I'd rather someone who deserves to win go home. Someone who deserves to return to their family." Castiel looked up at Dean with a soft expression. "Someone like you."

"How could you possibly know I deserve to go home?"

"Because you volunteered to go into these games to save your brother's life, not to take the lives of others. You're a protector. I'm a killer."

Dean placed his hand on Castiel's knee. "No, you're not a killer. Have you killed someone?" Castiel shook his head lightly, holding Dean's gaze. "Then you're not."

"But I will be. These games are going to make me into something I'm not. Or worse, they'll make me into something that I've been trained to be. And all these years I've spent fighting it will be for nothing." Castiel could feel tears gathering in his eyes. He tried to push them back, but for some reason, he felt like it was okay for Dean to see him vulnerable. "I don't want to win these games." A tear rolled down Castiel's cheek. "But I don't want to die."

Dean scooted closer to Castiel and put his arm around Castiel. "Hey, it's okay. We're all scared. I don't want to die either… It'll be okay, Cas."

"Cas?" Castiel chuckled and wiped away his tears. "Why did you call me Cas?"

Dean felt himself blush, and was grateful it was dark. The only light in the room was from the moon. He could see Castiel's facial features, but couldn't distinguish any color, aside from his eyes. "I tend to give nicknames to people that I…know." _That I care about… _He thought.

"I like it," whispered Castiel trying not to tear up anymore. He wiped at his eyes and sniffled slightly. "Sorry for getting worked up. I guess I've just been holding in a lot."

"No, no, it's fine. I've been holding in a lot too. Letting it out in the middle of the night is usually the best time; when there's no cameras." Dean rubbed Castiel's shoulder lightly before pulling away. He didn't want to pull away from Castiel, but he knew if he stayed like that and someone came into the living room, explaining would be nearly impossible.

"Well, we should probably go get some sleep…" mumbled Castiel, not really wanting to leave. "We've got training in the morning after all." Dean nodded in agreement.

"Do you want to meet here again tomorrow night?" he asked shyly.

Castiel smiled, "Yes, I do." He got up from the couch and walked over to the elevator. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight…Cas."

Castiel grinned from ear to ear at Dean until the elevator doors closed. Dean smiled impishly to himself as he got onto the elevator, walked into his room, changed his clothes to sleepwear, and climbed into bed. His smile simply wouldn't fade. It stuck with him until he drifted to sleep.

**Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading! I had a great time working on this chapter. It got me through school. XD I hope you enjoyed it. Be sure to leave me a review to tell me your thoughts. And check out my other stories if you haven't already. Bye bye~**


	4. Chapter 4

Fight For Me

Chapter 4:

"Get up get up get up!" shouted Charlie shaking Dean awake. "Up! Come on!" Dean shoved her away with a groan and turned away from her. "Deeeaaaan! Get up!

Dean waved his hand around hoping to smack Charlie in the face. "What are you, five? Go away! I'm exhausted." Charlie giggled like a school girl.

"Yeah, because you were up late with Caaastieeel!" Charlie teased as she continued to try and get Dean out of bed. What she said worked, because Dean turned over and sat up.

"How do you know about that?" he asked in slight panic. If Charlie knew, who else knew? Were they being too loud? No, that's impossible. Everything is soundproof in the building. Did something come downstairs and see them and tell everyone? Did—

"I know because you just told me. Sucker!" Carlie laughed. Dean let out the breath he didn't know he was holding in a heavy sigh.

"Dammit, Charlie, don't scare me like that! I thought someone came downstairs or something!" Dean climbed out of bed and ran his fingers through his hair. _It's okay…no one saw._ He told himself. He and Castiel were safe.

"Ooo! What happened? Were you afraid you made too much noise?" asked Charlie with a wink. Dean rolled his eyes.

"We just talked. That's it. Nothing else happened. Now go get ready instead of bugging me," Dean proceeded to mumble in worry under his breath as he walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Would Charlie say something to Castiel? No. She wouldn't do that. She was a lot of things, but cruel wasn't one of them. Besides, in less than two weeks everyone would be in the arena, and then no one would be friendly anymore.

* * *

><p>The day quickly came and went. During training, Dean and Charlie both mastered a few new skills. Dean endured a few glares from Lisa, and resisted inviting Castiel to sit with him and Charlie at lunch. He sat quietly at dinner with Haymitch, Effie, and Charlie. Haymitch continued to give advice to stay alive, but it went in one of Dean's ears and out the other. Dean felt the games getting closer. It had only been two days, but that meant he was two days closer to his imminent death. What Castiel said rang in his head. "<em>I don't want to win these games…but I don't want to die…<em>" The way Castiel had looked, so scared and vulnerable. Dean couldn't help but to wonder why Castiel had let himself be seen that way. If it had been for the cameras it would have made more sense, but there was no one there to see. _Just me…_ Dean thought to himself.

"Hello? Earth to Dean," said Charlie lightly poking Dean with her fork. Haymitch asked you a question, moron." Charlie rolled her eyes.

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, "What? Yeah," he looked at Haymitch, "sorry I was thinking. What's up?"

"Would you care to share your deep thoughts with the rest of the class?" asked Haymitch in a condescending tone. "Clearly it's so important you can't pay attention to my advice, which you threated me for. I sobered up to help you and now you're not listening."

"Look, I was just thinking about my brother, okay?" snapped Dean. "I didn't mean to zone out. I'm just worried about my family."

Haymitch leaned forward in his chair. "If you really care about your family, you'll stop day dreaming and listen to me. Now, I've gotten some good information on this year's Careers."

"Do tell!" said Charlie excitedly. "I hope it's on how we can murder that bitch, Lisa." Charlie ate a forkful of rice. "I mean, she's such a snob. And she's mean to Castiel. At least Adam and Jo are a team. Lisa's a dictator."

Haymitch laughed, "Well my information is actually about Castiel. Apparently his family is trying to make a tradition of sorts of winning the games. They've got him in an arranged marriage with a previous District 2 winner, Hannah, and everything else. He's going to be well rounded in combat. If given the opportunity. Take. Him. Out. He's going to be your most dangerous tribute."

"Damn," muttered Charlie. "I liked him. He was cool to talk to when the elevator got stuck."

"Don't let him fool you. His father before him used a similar technique to win his games. He was a kind, charming tribute during training and on TV. Then as soon as that horn sounded, he slit everyone's throats without hesitation."

Dean felt his heart racing. No. Castiel couldn't be putting on an act. Those tears couldn't have been fake. Could they be? Was Castiel playing him? Was he pretending to be kind just to make a fool of another tribute? So he'd having something to gloat over as he tortured Dean in the games? Question after question rang in Dean's mind. His palms started to sweat. "I'm not hungry." He got up and retreated to his room before anyone could notice his nerves.

"I wonder what's upsetting him…" said Effie with her hand on her heart.

"Who knows," said Charlie. _I think I do…_ She thought. "Will you excuse me for the first a second?" she asked as she got up from her seat. She walked over to Dean's room and knocked on the door. "It's me. Can I come in?" The door stayed close and Dean remained silent. "Dean, come on. I know why you're upset. Can we just talk about this?" Still no response. "You know what? Fine! See if I care. While you're moping I'm going to work on my strategies. To _survive_!" Charlie stormed off past Effie and Haymitch to her room and let the sliding doors complete her dramatic exit.

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "I hate tribute drama."

"You know," said Effie. She took a sip of wine and then set down her glass. "If things go well, you might be able to use this to our advantage. Maybe," Effie gasped, "we could get sponsors by making the games more emotionally dramatic!" she squeaked.

Haymitch waved his hand. "Hold up. Are you suggesting that we have Charlie and Dean _act_ like they like each other to make the games more appealing to the Capitol? You think that'll get us sponsors?"

"It got you sponsors, didn't it?" Effie winked.

"Yeah…" Haymitch trailed off remembering his days in the arena. "I guess it did."

* * *

><p>It was 11:30 p.m. Dean stared at the controller in his hand. He had been playing with the controls in the room, trying to distract himself. He found one feature where he could change the view out his window virtually. He changed it to the view of a forest, then to the view of a beach. Eventually he changed it back to the natural view of the city. He glanced at the clock. 11:37 p.m. Should he go meet Castiel? Maybe he could figure out if it was an act. Or would he just get lost in those beautiful blue eyes again? He shook his head. There had to be something wrong with him. It was one thing to be gay, but to crush on a <em>tribute <em>that he might have to kill? Over and over he told himself he was digging himself in deeper and deeper into something that would only hurt him more, but when the clock turned to 11:50, he headed to the elevator.

The elevator opened silently and Dean stepped out into the main living room. He immediately saw Castiel. Castiel spotted Dean and a smiled splashed onto his face. He stood up and waved at Dean to make sure Dean saw him in the darkness. Dean smiled and walked over to Castiel. Part of him wanted to hug Castiel, but he resisted. To his surprise Castiel embraced him, and he happily returned the gesture.

Dean and Castiel sat together on the couch and talked for what seemed like hours. They told each other about how their districts compared, hobbies, and family. It turned out that Castiel had a brother too. He had two brothers; Michael, and Gabriel. Castiel chuckled. "Being the youngest, you tend to get babied. Michael always tended to talk down to me."

"I'm guessing it's the older brother complex," said Dean. Castiel shrugged. "How come your brothers didn't volunteer for the games when they were 18?"

"My brothers are strong men, but they didn't want to be fighters. My dad tried to send them to training, but they refused. I was the one that was too scared of my father to fight against his wishes. I was the small one. Both Michael and Gabriel were very rebellious sons. I was the one that listened. I guess you could say I since I was a pushover I'm forced to redeem myself by becoming a warrior."

"Damn… I guess we've both had it pretty rough. At the reaping, that was the first time I disobeyed my father. He reached out his hand and tried to stop me from volunteering for Sammy, but in that moment I didn't give a shit what he thought. All I cared about was Sammy."

"You were brave in so many ways Dean," said Castiel shifting his position on the couch. Now the moonlight was hitting his eyes just right. Dean smiled. There was something about being able to talk to someone for the first time.

Dean stared at Castiel intensely. Haymitch's warning ringed in his mind, but as he looked into Castiel's bright blue irises, he couldn't believe a word of it. There was no way Castiel was lying. No one could be so genuine and be pretending. Dean felt himself being drawn to Castiel physically and emotionally. He scooted closer to Castiel until they were sitting right next to each other. "I'd like to believe it was brave."

Castiel gingerly placed his hand on Dean's forearm. He looked into Dean's perfect emerald eyes. As emerald met sapphire, a fire inside was started. Both men couldn't help but to feel something bigger than themselves forming inside their hearts. But how could they? They might have to kill each other. Castiel began to withdraw his arm, but Dean reached up and stopped him by pressing his palm firmly on Castiel's shoulder. They were so close to each other. Dean realized they were only about six inches apart. Next thing he knew, Castiel had leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Dean closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. Both men untangled their arms and found each other's bodies.

Dean slipped his hands underneath Castiel's shirt, feeling his hard muscles. Castiel squeezed Dean's heavily muscled biceps, which were strong from hunting. He ran his tongue over Dean's, tasting him. Dean quietly moaned and grabbed at Castiel's back, pulling him closer. Both Castiel and Dean continued to kiss and touch each other hungrily, blissfully unaware of Haymitch standing in the hallway, trying with all his might not to burst out laughing.

* * *

><p>Dean awoke the next morning with a smile on his face. It was going to be so hard not to act differently, but he and Castiel agreed to keep what they had a secret. Every day Dean and Charlie trained, and Dean would meet with Castiel in the middle of the night. Dean and Castiel mixed up talking and kissing, but it was mostly kissing. Dean couldn't take his hands off of Castiel. Castiel's body fit perfect against his own, and he couldn't stop holding him closely.<p>

After a while, both Castiel and Dean tired out and went back to talking. "So, are you nervous for tomorrow?" asked Castiel.

"Am I nervous to try and impress the game makers? Yes, yes I am. I won't deny that. I don't have any skills that will get me a decent score. I'll probably end up with a 5," replied Dean. He shrugged and sighed.

"Hey, don't worry. Throw spears, set fires, you'll score just fine." Castiel smiled softly.

"Thanks, Cas."

* * *

><p>Dean's leg shook nervously. One by one, tributes were disappearing into the training room to show their skills to the game makers. Dean had seen Castiel walk in but he never came back. None of the tributes came back. Eventually the time came and he was left in the waiting room with Charlie. He was next.<p>

"Ready for this?" asked Charlie seeming calm and collected. Dean lightly shook his head. Charlie placed her hand on Dean's shoulder. "Hey. Don't sweat it. It'll be fine."

"Dean Winchester," said a monotone, animatronic voice through the speakers. Dean's head shot up. He was barely able to command his legs to allow him to stand, and walking into the room was a whole new challenge on its own.

Dean walked shakily into the training room and stood before the game makers. They were all men in obnoxious purple robes. They were eating and drinking and barely acknowledged Dean's existence. Dean cursed under his breath. The game makers were too drunk and bored from seeing other tributes to even give him a chance. He took a deep breath and made his way over to the spears. Picking up a spear he took his proper stance and threw the weapon. The sharp end pierced the heart of the target. Dean looked up to see that almost none of the game makers noticed anything.

Picking up a bow, Dean took a deep breath. It had been too long since he held the familiar weapon in his hands. He strung an arrow and fired at the dummy in front of him. The arrow sank through the heart and came out the other side. Dean smiled at his success. Looking up once again, he saw no one had noticed. Finally, his anger got the best of him. "Hey!"

The game makers all turned their attention to Dean, most of them looking shocked and offended. Dean glared at all of them. How dare they be so ignorant and care so little. "You're supposed to evaluate my skills! I don't know about you, but I have people I care about! And I want to return to my family! So put down your wine glasses. And I don't know, _PAY ATTENTION YOU DICKS!_" Dean screamed at the game makers and fired another arrow through the dummy's head. He fired at another dummy, hitting it in the heart again. Picking up a spear, he threw it so hard that it collided with a dummy's neck and tore the head right off.

Dean turned to face the game makers. He bowed and walked out without being excused. He didn't care anymore. His chances of getting a good score were over. His chances of returning home were going down each day.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Dean, Charlie, Effie and Haymitch were gathered around the TV. Caesar was about to announce the scores from the game maker's evaluation. Charlie turned to Dean, "How do you think you did?" Dean simply shrugged. "I think I got at least a 6… Who am I kidding I have no talent."<p>

Dean smiled softly, "I'm sure you did fine."

"Shush! It's starting!" said Effie nearly bouncing in her seat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in my hand I hold the scores of the tributes," said Caesar. "Now this is very important. The scoring is on a 1-12 scale, and each score was assigned by the game makers after careful evaluation of the tribute's skill. Let us begin. From District 1, Jo has a score of 9."

Dean and Charlie exchanged nervous glances.

"From District 1, Adam received a score of 10," said Caesar. "No surprise there. From District 2, Lisa has a score of 9." Dean's heart picked up the pace. What was Castiel's score? "From District 2, Castiel has a score of…oh. That's impressive." Caesar chuckled. "Castiel scored an 11."

Everyone in the room quietly gasped. Careers scores usually ranged from 8-10. Rarely did anyone score above a 10. Dean felt proud of Castiel, but he also became nervous. This made Castiel a target. The Careers always worked together, but once the numbers dropped, they would start to turn on each other. Castiel had made himself a beacon of danger.

The scores continued to be read off, but Dean hardly paid attention. Caesar spoke up, "And last, but not least, the District 12 tributes. Charlie has been given a score of 7."

"Whoo!" shouted Charlie. "I got a seeeveeen!" Charlie got up onto her feet and did a small victory dance, earning a laugh from Dean and Haymitch, and a head shake from Effie.

"Sit down!" hissed Effie. Charlie sat back on the couch but continued to dance in her seat. Dean smiled at her, she had earned that score.

"Finally, Dean has earned a score of 9," said Caesar.

Effie, Haymitch, and Charlie all whooped and congratulated Dean. Dean blushed and thanked them for their support. He couldn't believe it. He scored as well as the Careers. His smile faded when he realized he was now a target. He didn't want to put Charlie in danger. What could he do?

* * *

><p>The next day was full of intense preparation with the stylists. Dean had gotten a little more used to being scrubbed and plucked at, but it was still a big irritation. Flavius and Octavia chatted excitedly about the upcoming show. That night, all the tributes would speak with Caesar on live TV to try to get sponsors.<p>

Cinna came in to Dean's room. He held up a suit with flame accents on the bottom of the pants and on the sleeves. "Don't question it. Now, a heads up, all the costumes are very elaborate this year."

"If they're elaborate then why do I have a gay flaming suit?" asked Dean in a snarky tone. He smirked.

Cinna raised an eyebrow and returned Dean's smirk. "A gay suit for a gay man." Dean's smirk instantly vanished. He opened his mouth to the protest but Cinna raised his hand. "Relax. I have a sense for these things, especially because I'm constantly shooing gay men away. I may be very flamboyant, but there's nothing like a female figure."

"Subject change?"

"Get dressed," said Cinna with a small laugh. Dean smiled a little and went into the other room to change.

Dean walked alongside Cinna and Charlie to the stadium where the interviews were going to be held. Cinna escorted Dean and Charlie backstage. "Now, I'm going to be sitting in the front with the other stylists. Like I said, everyone has elaborate costumes. When I give the signal, stand in the center of the stage and I will activate your costumes.

"What's going to happen?" asked Charlie pulling at her dress. She was in a red dress that glittered and shined beautifully. Dean had to admit, she was stunning like that.

"Just relax," assured Cinna. "Wait for my signal." And with that he was gone.

"We're going to die," said Charlie flatly.

Dean nodded his head. "Yup."

The lights faded and all the tributes took that as their cue to get in line. Dean caught a glimpse of Castiel as the tributes took their places. Castiel was wearing a black tuxedo with a bright blue tie and white accents. His hair was gelled much like Dean's. Dean's breath caught and he had to shake his head to clear his mind. Jo stepped onto stage for her interview and it began. Dean's heart raced. Why were the female tributes going first? They never went first! Dean was going to be last. He felt sick. In no time flat it would be his turn, and he would be the last interview of the night.

In a matter of minutes Lisa was finishing up her interview. Castiel looked back and made eye contact with Dean. He looked nervous. Dean smiled and him and gave him a head nod of encouragement. Castiel nodded back.

"And next up, is our District 2 tribute. He's quite a hunk, and is sure to give us quite a show. Put your hands together, for Castiel Novak!" Caesar's voice summoned Castiel. Castiel took a deep breath and stepped out onto the stage. He shook Caesar's hand and sat in the chair across from him.

Dean was paying attention to the interviews for the first time. He couldn't help but laugh at Caesar's golden hair, eyebrows, lips, and suit. The strange guy did a different color every year.

"So, Castiel, how are you liking the Capitol thus far?" asked Caesar.

Castiel leaned back in his chair casually and rested his left ankle on his right knee. "Well, it's different than District 2. I mean being the guy I am I never expected to have my nails done." The audience laughed along with Caesar. Dean couldn't help but to smile.

"Ah, yes! Our stylists cover all preparations before you make yourself known to the public. So tell me, Castiel, what do you think of the other tributes?"

"Everyone proved themselves worthy adversaries in training. Some more than others."

"Now it's tradition in your family to volunteer for the games, is that correct?" Caesar pushed on to the more juicy information.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, sir. My father won the games before me. I'm supposed to win, and go home to my fiancé."

"Ooo!" Caesar giggled. The audience went "Ooo" and "ahh". "A fiancé. That's exciting."

"Quite so," said Castiel flashing a smile at the audience. "Sorry, ladies." All the women in the crowd made an "aww…" sound.

Caesar laughed. "Well, you may be off the market, but you still have to win these games. Any strategies you can share?"

Castiel smirked, "I find that certain personas are useful, which is actually part of my show tonight."

"Whoa! Let's see it!" encouraged Caesar.

Dean's smile faded. Persona? No. Castiel wasn't…he wasn't…faking. Was he? The whole time? He couldn't have. _This_ was the persona. _This_ was the show. What he and Castiel had was real. Castiel wasn't lying. He couldn't be.

Castiel stood in the center of the stage and allowed the stage lights to bring out his eyes. His blue orbs practically glowed. Suddenly, it wasn't just his eyes that were glowing. His tuxedo was glowing as well in the back. Out of nowhere, giant wings sprung forth from the fabric. Castiel wasn't just a tribute from District 2 anymore, he was angel in disguise. The audience erupted with applause. Castiel's entire being shined like a star. His wings were solid black, but they somehow gleamed.

"Amazing!" shouted Caesar. He stood to his feet. Castiel's wings folded in as he turned to face Caesar. "Castiel it was wonderful having you here tonight."

"Thank you, Caesar," said Castiel shaking Caesar's hand.

Caesar raised Castiel's arm to the sky. "Let's hear it one more time for Castiel!" The audience stood to their feet and screamed and shouted. Castiel returned backstage and walked past the remaining tributes. He gently and quickly gave Dean's hand a squeeze before disappearing around the corner. Dean could feel himself smiling again. He had nothing to worry about.

The interviews went on and on. Dean tapped his foot nervously as his time grew closer. He also couldn't help but to take note on the fact that all the tributes costumes weren't as elaborate as Castiel's. The costumes only did something interesting or sparkled after certain lighting. District 4's costumes had a lot to do with the ocean. Castiel was the only one with something extravagant. Even Charlie's costume was fairly simple. She caught on fire and seemed to resemble a queen. Charlie walked backstage and gave a thumbs up to Dean. Dean's heart raced. It was his turn.

"Now, our final tribute of the night. He scored a 9 from the game makers despite coming from District 12! Let's have a big round of applause, for Dean Winchester!" shouted Caesar. The audience cheered and Dean took that as his cue to walk onto the stage. He looked at the audience horrified. He had never seen so many people. What was he going to do? How should he act? He shook Caesar's hand and sat down shakily in the chair. "So, Dean, you scored a 9 on your evaluation! How did you do it?"

Dean froze. What should he say? "I, uh, threw spears." The audience laughed and Dean blushed. He cursed himself. Stupid!

"You threw spears?" asked Caesar with a laugh. "You must have had good aim." Sensing Dean's nervousness, Caesar decided to help him out. "Well, let's move on from your score. Now you volunteered to come here, is that correct."

"Yes."

"Why was that?"

The crowd grew quiet.

"I did it to save my little brother. He's always meant the world to me. His name is Sam," said Dean just loud enough to be heard. "That's why I want to win these games. I want to go home to my little brother."

The crowd gave a quiet "aww…" Dean didn't know what else to say. He felt heartbroken thinking he might not return home to Sam.

"Well you're doing a wonderful job of making yourself known to the sponsors! You and Charlie made an amazing impact at the opening ceremony! Those flames, were they real?" asked Caesar.

"Yes, they were," replied Dean with a small smile. He looked and caught Cinna giving him a signal. "And flames are part of my show tonight."

"Well then show us!" encouraged Caesar. The crowd cheered as Dean got to his feet. Dean walked to the center of the stage. He closed his eyes and waited. Suddenly he was engulfed in flames. But the flames seemed to take a shape. He looked at his image on the screen that was being broadcasted on television. He wore a flaming crown and his eyes appeared to be black. He remembered Charlie's eyes seemed black too. Everything clicked into place in Dean's mind. He had overheard Haymitch and Effie talking about playing a star crossed lover's story with himself and Charlie, but they never said anything. They didn't have to. Dean and Charlie weren't just a king and queen. They were the king and queen of hell. And they were going to kill everyone.

The costume's effect ended and the audience stood to their feet screaming. Caesar shook Dean's hand, "Thank you, Dean! That was amazing! Give him a hand!" Dean held up his arm with Caesar nervously as he once again saw himself on the screen.

* * *

><p>Dean and Charlie received praise from Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna at dinner. They were both happy that they did well. Haymitch gave them both some last minute advice for the games. Dean felt himself tense up. He was so nervous from the interview that he almost forgot he'd be fighting for his life in the morning.<p>

Night fell and Dean went into the main living area to meet Castiel just like all the nights before. Castiel greeted him with a kiss and the two of them lay down on the couch together. Kissing, caressing, neither of them wanting to face the harsh truth that was about to become reality.

Eventually Castiel and Dean pulled apart and both knew that their time was up. Castiel took Dean's hand, "Dean…maybe we can-"

"No," said Dean, already knowing what Castiel was going to suggest. "We can't work together right away. You have to work with Lisa and I have to work with Charlie. The Careers will turn on you in an instant if you try to work with me."

"I'll never work with them. I'll run. I'll run and I'll find you and we can survive together."

"And what happens when the numbers start dropping, Cas?" asked Dean harshly. He could feel tears forming in his eyes. "I don't want it to come down to the two of us. Because the Capitol will find a way to make us hurt each other or they'll pick one of us at random to murder. I won't watch you die with my own two eyes! I won't!" A single tear slid down Dean's cheek. "I'm already close to losing my brother, I won't lose you too!"

Castiel's own tears rolled down his face. "I don't want to lose you. I can't protect you if I'm not with you."

"Look…if…if we find each other and it's just us, and maybe Charlie if she's still with me, we'll work together. But you have a better chance of survival with your Career buddies.

"They're not my friends. The only person here I give a damn about is you."

Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to Castiel's. He wanted to remember what Castiel tasted like, how soft his skin was, what he smelled like. "I…" he paused, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Castiel smiled softly. "I'll see you tomorrow…"

**Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please review! Bye bye~**


End file.
